When a desperate covert operation goes wrong, a rogue agent must go undercover - and under the covers - with some of the world's most dangerous men.
Warning: This trilogy of erotic novellas contains graphic sexual content, including themes of bondage, domination, spanking, and rough and reluctant sex between a secret agent and three ruthless men who live above the law. 45,000+ words. More
This trilogy includes all three previously published serial novellas.
CIA operative Audrey Archer has spent years on the trail of the Mountain Wolf, the elusive terrorist mastermind who engineered the destruction of her platoon in Afghanistan.
Audrey's personal vendetta against the Mountain Wolf has put her life on hold for years as she chases what feels like a myth. When a desperate covert operation goes wrong, Audrey must go undercover - and under the covers - with some of the world's most dangerous men.
Her partner, former Army Ranger Cal Turner, will do anything to protect Audrey, but he won't stand by while she destroys herself. Can Audrey put the ghosts of her past to rest and find a future in her protector's arms, or will her mission of vengeance consume her?
Warning: This trilogy of erotic novellas contains graphic sexual content, including themes of bondage, domination, spanking, and rough and reluctant sex between a secret agent and three ruthless men who live above the law. 45,000+ words.
Salas watched as I unbuckled my belt and slipped out of my pants. I could feel his arousal grow as he admired my long, toned legs, tight, smooth skin over the firm thighs and calves of a dedicated runner.
"Turn around," Salas said, his voice soft, but taut as a drawn bowstring.
I pivoted slowly, letting him admire the swell of my bosom, the curve of my tight ass. When my back was to him, I waited. Time stretched out in interminable seconds. His eyes were a heavy weight on me, but I dared not move. Salas was in full control, and I could only give him what he wanted and hope it was enough to hold his interest.
"Dance for me, my little Cubana," he said. "Show me why this man Ricardo would want you."
My heart hammered in my chest, and I felt flush with excitement and fear. I stood in the private suite of Colombia's most powerful drug lord, a CIA agent undercover with no real backup wearing only her underwear. I didn't even have a pistol with me. I felt incredibly vulnerable, but I reminded myself of the importance of my mission and resolved to do whatever was necessary.
There was no music, but I began to move my hips in a slow, sensual roll, swaying from side to side, enticing Salas with the undulating motion of my body. I raised my arms over my head and raked my fingers through my black hair, pulling it up to expose the delicate curve of my slender neck as I turned my head to watch him. Our eyes met, the master and his helpless slave, a thrall bound by chains of emotion forged by a skilled manipulator. Even though my cover story was pure fiction, I found myself wanting to please Fierro Salas for reasons that had little to do with the Mountain Wolf on the other side of the world.
My dance grew more passionate, my entire body writhing and pulsing to the beat of a song only I could hear, a deep pulse that accelerated with the beat of my heart.
I don't know how long I danced, but at some point Salas was there, his body against mine. His shirt was off now, and our skin pressed together, warm and smooth, two bodies drawn to one another with irresistible intensity.
He took my chin in one strong hand and raised my face to his. I could smell him then, expensive Scotch, leather, mountain air, horses, and something darker, the deep musk of a man who lives without inhibitions, acting on instinct, taking what he desires. The scent swirled in my nostrils, as intoxicating as the aguardiente I'd hastily drunk on the way to his hotel.
Salas's eyes were deep, black pools that drew me in, and when he kissed me, I couldn't resist, even if I wanted to. His mouth pressed against mine, and I felt his coarse, thick stubble on my smooth skin as I opened myself to him. His tongue slid between my teeth, penetrating, questing. Strong hands encircled my waist, slid up my back, and unfastened my bra. I leaned back and let its straps tumble from my shoulders, baring my breasts to this brutal man who held me captive.